One New Message
by kazoquel4
Summary: Paul finds a much-needed message on the telephone late one night- one from his missing stepson, Perseus Jackson, bringing with it relief after several anxious months of worry. Set in the SoN *One-shot, Complete*


Paul sat up in bed, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. Glancing bleary-eyed at the digital clock, he realized it was one in the morning. Letting out a quiet groan so as not to wake his sleeping wife next to him, he swung his feet over the side of the bed and stood.

Getting to his feet, he grabbed his bathrobe from where it was sitting next to his bed and pulled it over his shoulders, tying it tightly. Padding over to the door, he silently pushed it open, glancing over to make sure he hadn't roused his wife. Luckily, Sally was still slumbering away, eyes shut tightly. The faint moonlight streaming in through the window illuminated the worried-looking lines on her face, and Paul frowned.

Slipping into the hall, he gently shut the door behind him. The air in their small apartment was chilly, and he drew his robe tighter around him in an attempt to warm up. Paul was unable to wipe the frown off his face, feeling a heavy weight settle around him.

Sally Jackson, his wife, had been growing more and more worried as the weeks went by- and Paul couldn't blame her. They had received a call one day from Annabeth Chase, a camper at Camp Half-Blood, who had worriedly informed them that Percy Jackson, Sally's son and Paul's step-son, had mysteriously disappeared overnight. Annabeth was Percy's girlfriend and best friend, so Paul had no doubts she wouldn't rest until Percy had been located. He himself had assured Sally that her son had probably only gotten himself lost, as he had been known to do, and together they had waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Flicking on the light in the kitchen, Paul flinched slightly as the bright light stung at his eyes. Running a tired hand over his face, he opened one of the cabinets and grabbed a coffee mug. Filling it with water, he stuck it in the microwave, closing the door firmly. With a small mechanical click, the machine buzzed to life.

Paul leaned back against the countertop, crossing his arms. In truth, thoughts of his missing step-son had been part of what had woken him up that night, and hadn't allowed him to go back to sleep. Although he had tried to assure Sally everything would turn out all right, he couldn't deny the fact that it had been nearly _seven months. _That may be bad under normal circumstances, but Percy's real identity made it a thousand times worse.

Percy was a demigod, a half-mortal son of the Greek god Poseidon. Almost a year ago, on his sixteenth birthday, he had defeated the titan lord Kronos, and all had seemed to be well. Then this happened.

Thinking about Percy made Paul's chest hurt. He may not be the boy's father, but he was as much his son as anyone else's. Ever since he had learned the truth about Percy, the two had grown steadily closer- and Paul cared greatly for him. Now that he was missing, disappeared into thin air, hundreds of horrible thoughts had been making their way across Paul's mind on a daily basis, ideas that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

He could have been kidnapped by any number of things. Gods turned bad, monsters, creatures. He could be stuck in a mystical land full of dark and evil things, or stuck in the Underworld. For a while he had mused over the idea that Poseidon had taken him to his undersea palace, which had made him feel slightly better, but those hopes had been crushed after a very brief visit from the sea-god himself, who seemed nearly as anxious as Sally. So Paul's mind had gone back to pondering the darker ideas he had about the location of his step-son.

But the one thing he was sure of was that Percy was not dead. Sally and himself hadn't even considered the idea. Percy had been through too much, survived too much, to be brought down now. At the young age of sixteen, he had seen more evil than Paul could even begin to imagine. He had saved the world. He deserved a long and happy life, and that was not about to be taken away from him now.

Paul knew, in his hear, that Percy Jackson was not dead. But there were things that were worse than being dead.

Of course, Paul's worries paled in comparison to Sally's. For weeks she had not eaten or slept, consumed with anxiety over her missing son. She tried to hide it from her husband, but he could tell just by the lines appearing on her face, the grey hairs beginning to sprinkle her hair. And Paul was at a loss for what to do; what do you say to a frantic mother to make her feel better when you're already this worried yourself?

The microwave dinged, making Paul jump. Sighing, he pushed himself off the counter and opened the microwave, grabbing the mug. He quickly carried it over to the table, feeling the hot cup sting his hand, and set it down swiftly. Reaching for a tea-bag, he ripped it open and dropped it in the hot water.

When it had soaked considerably in the drink, Paul grabbed the handle again and carried it into the living room. Collapsing back in his armchair, he leaned his head back, shutting his eyes. In his hands, the steam from the cup drifted up, disappearing into the air.

_Beep. _

Paul cracked one eye open to glance at the telephone, which lay in its holder on the table next to him. It issued another mechanical beep, a red light blinking to signal something.

"You have one new message," a woman's recorded voice said, tinny and calm.

Paul let out another deep sigh, taking a small sip of his drink. Reaching lazily over, he pressed the 'play' button on the phone, shutting his eyes again as he listened.

"Mom."

Paul nearly spilled his tea then and there. His eyes shot open as the voice hit his ears, a familiar voice he hadn't heard in so long. Turning wide eyes to the telephone, he listened.

"Hey. I'm alive," Percy Jackson, Paul's step-son, went on. "Hera put me to sleep for a while, and then she took my memory, and…"

The teenager trailed off. Paul listened intently, soaking up Percy's voice. It may have been just him, but Percy's voice sounded more solemn, more hesitant, more confused. Paul frowned as what Percy had said hit him. _Took his memory?_

"Anyway, I'm okay. I'm sorry. I'm on a quest-"

Again, Percy faltered, his voice halting. Behind him, Paul could dimly hear the sounds of footsteps, people walking. Where was he? Why was he on a quest? And more importantly, _where had he been?_

"I'll make it home. I promise. Love you."

There was a click, and the woman's voice spoke again. "End of recording."

Paul sat there for a moment, breathing heavily. Then he lunged at the telephone, picking it up and jabbing at the buttons.

"No," he muttered, pressing redial. "That can't be it. Come on…"

He pressed the receiver up to his ear and anxiously listened to the rings. He tapped his foot anxiously, waiting for someone to pick up.

"We're sorry," said another voice- pre-recorded, of course. "The number you have dialed cannot be reached. For more options, press-"

Paul turned it off. Flicking through the messages, he came to Percy's and looked at the time.

_Midnight. _He had only called an hour ago.

Feeling dazed, Paul dropped the phone back in its cradle. Leaning back against the cushions, he pressed his fingers to his temple, trying to slow his breathing down.

He was alive. He was okay. Paul let out a small laugh of relief, feeling overjoyed. Despite the confused tone to his voice, Percy had sounded the same as he had seven months ago, before he had disappeared.

What had he meant by taken his memory? He had obviously gotten it back, or at least some of it, if he remembered their phone number. If he had had his memory taken away, it would explain why he hadn't contacted them until now. It seemed like it hadn't been possible for Percy.

And if he was on a quest, wouldn't camp know? Paul knew something was going on over at Camp Half-Blood; Annabeth had reported they might have a general idea of where Percy was, but they would not be able to get to him for quite a while.

However, although they now knew he was alive, they still had no clue as to where he was. And, judging from what he knew about quests, Paul suspected Percy would not have a chance to stop by, or even call again.

No, Paul had a feeling this would be the last time they heard from Percy in a while.

But at least they knew he was alright. And he would (hopefully) be coming home, eventually.

Paul smiled. Reaching for his mug of tea, he stood and headed back towards the bedroom, preparing to wake up Sally and give her the news.

* * *

**A/N: I was thinking about doing another one-shot about Percy coming home... If I do, I'll probably just add it on to this, even if it is registered as complete right now.**

**Thanks for reading, and if you liked this, please review!**


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